


The Interview

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: You have a big interview with Dean Smith.





	1. Chapter 1

You walked into the office building, checking in at the security desk.  “Hello, I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N and I have a meeting with Mr. Smith.”  The security guard gave you a visitor pass and pointed you toward the elevators, letting you know that Mr. Smith’s office was on the 22nd floor.

You stepped into the elevator and patted down your blouse in the front, giving yourself a once-over in the reflection of the elevator doors.  You were interviewing for the open Regional Sales Manager position at Sandover Bridge and Iron, and you  _really_  wanted the job.  You met all of the qualifications and desperately needed a change of pace from your position at your current company.  Unfortunately, there were no possibilities of promotion where you were, so you were looking elsewhere.

As you arrived at the correct floor, you stepped off the elevator and checked in with Mr. Smith’s receptionist.  She smiled sweetly at you, letting you know she’d buzz in to Mr. Smith’s office to let him know you had arrived.

You sat in one of the fairly comfortable waiting area chairs, opening your bag to quadruple-check that your resume was there and unwrinkled.  You discreetly checked your face in your make-up mirror once more, before shaking your head at yourself.  You were a great interviewer – there was nothing to worry about.   _Confidence is key, Y/N,_  you thought to yourself.

After only a few minutes, Mr. Smith’s office door opened.  “Ms. Y/L/N?” a voice said, and you stood up to walk toward the office. When you were a few feet away from the door, you finally got a glimpse of Dean Smith.

You felt the breath leave your body.  You had never seen a man so handsome as this one.  His eyes were remarkably green, enhanced by the perfectly fitted beige shirt and green tie that had been slightly loosened around his neck.  His hair was a nice sandy blonde, short on the sides but long enough on top to have a bit of a swish to it.  His lips were plump and utterly kissable –  _Y/N, snap out of it!_

The inappropriate thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as you reached your hand out to shake his, giving a firm and confident grip.  His hand was slightly callused and seemed to fit around yours perfectly. You hoped the smile on your face and the “Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith,” were normal enough, because you knew for a fact that your mind and body were reacting to his attractiveness in a not-so-normal way.

Mr. Smith guided you into his office, offering you a seat as he closed the door behind you.  You thanked him as you handed him your resume and paperwork.

As he took a moment to glance over the papers, you couldn’t help but stare more at the man.  You held your hands tightly in your lap, trying to keep your body under control.  It had been a while since you’d been with a man, and you were feeling the affects of that now, in the worst possible time.

Mr. Smith’s green eyes finally looked back up at you.  “So, Ms. Y/L/N, thank you for coming in today for this interview.  Please tell me a little about yourself and why you think this job would suit you.”

While you had been practicing for this interview all week (and you were always good at interviews), you stuttered over your words a bit answering the question.  You were mentally kicking yourself, trying to imagine that your interview wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen and that you didn’t want him to bend you over his desk right then.

You must not have been doing a very good job keeping yourself composed, as Mr. Smith got up to pour you a glass of water.  He handed it to you before perching against the front of his desk, right next to where you were sitting.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you seem nervous.  Let’s be a little more casual.  Please call me Dean,” Mr. Smith –  _Dean_ – said, smiling.

You smiled back, sipping your water before replying, “Then please call me Y/N, Dean.”

Dean crossed his arms in front of him, thinking of another interview question for you.  “What management projects have you had in the past, and how do you think your experience could transfer to the position here, Y/N?”

You kept your eyes away from Dean while answering this question, feeling it was alright since he was so much closer to you than before and you would have practically been looking straight up at him if you held his eyes.  Not looking at him helped with your confidence in the answer and you didn’t stutter or stumble over your words as much.  Dean nodded with your statements, and you looked up at him when you were done speaking.

You kept with the not-looking strategy through the next few questions, becoming more and more comfortable (or less distracted) through the interview.  Finally, Dean seemed pleased enough with the conversation, bringing it to a close.

“Well, Y/N, you seem to be the most qualified candidate I have interviewed,” Dean spoke as he walked around to his desk chair and sat.  You smiled at him, feeling heat rush to your face from the compliment.  He fiddled with the papers on his desk as he spoke.  “HR gave me permission to offer the job on the spot if I felt like it was right, so I am officially asking you to join the team here at Sandover.”

You couldn’t believe it – usually it took a few days for an offer to come from a potential employer.  You were ready to take this job, however, and couldn’t be happier.  “Thank you so much, Dean.  I would love to work here at Sandover, and I promise I won’t let you down!” You said enthusiastically, smiling.

Dean smiled as well, rising from his seat to offer his hand.  You took it as he said, “Why don’t you head down to HR – they’re on the 7th floor – and I’ll call down telling them you’re on your way.  You can go ahead and start on the employment paperwork now, if you have time.”

You gave his hand a firm shake.  “Thank you, sir, thank you so much!”  Your smile was enormous, and once again the feel of Dean’s hand in yours made shivers travel over your body.

“Please, Dean.  ‘Sir’ makes me feel old,” Dean replied with a wink (causing more shivers), before shooing you out the door to head to HR. He watched as you stepped in the elevator, waving at you as you turned to press the button.

An hour and what seemed like a hundred signatures and initials later, you were headed to the elevators to leave.  You turned to the elevator that dinged to get on, seeing that Dean was already on it.

His head was down looking at his phone and you smiled to yourself, standing next to him.  You body reacted at the close quarters, my  _God_  the man was beautiful.

Dean glanced up to note that someone was next to him, before doing a double take and recognizing you. “Y/N!” he spoke, a smile on his face, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Hey again, Mr. Smith,” you replied, trying to be formal once more.

Dean shook his head. “Please never call me Mr. Smith – it’s just too weird.  And now that we’re working together – always Dean.”

You laughed, “Okay Dean. I’m excited to work with you, thanks for offering the job.”

“Of course! Unfortunately you won’t be working  _with_  me all the time, as you’ll have another supervisor above you, but hopefully we’ll see each other around the office.” Dean’s smile was bright, and he let you step out of the elevator first, having arrived at the ground floor.  “In fact, we should celebrate!  Let me take you out for a drink, as a congrats on the new job.”

You thought about the boring apartment you would be going home to, and immediately nodded.  “Sounds like fun.  Lead the way!”  

Dean offered you his arm and you took it, feeling sparks yet again at his touch.  He took you out of the building and down a couple blocks to a small martini bar, where he was obviously a regular.  The host and bartender both waved as you entered, and Dean hollered a hello.

The two of you sat at a table by the window and ordered drinks.  You weren’t exactly sure how to act – this man was the one who interviewed you mere hours before, but was now acting as if he’d known you as friends for years.  Not to mention that he was gorgeous and you wanted to jump his bones.

“So Y/N, I’m glad you came for the interview today.  You seem like you’ll be a great addition to the company, let alone a great person. Tell me about yourself outside of work?” Dean seemed sincerely curious about you, so you began to speak.

You told Dean about growing up in a large family, having four older brothers and two younger sisters. You told him how you worked for your dad and older brothers for a while, them constantly pushing you to be better. You went to college for marketing and management, earning a double degree alongside psychology, which was more of a hobby.

You explained that once you graduated, you were ready to go out in the world on your own, and interviewed for twenty different jobs across the country, getting 16 offers, before finding the job that you actually wanted.

To that, Dean was surprised, “Huh, I would have thought you weren’t that experienced from interviewing. You seemed nervous.”

You blushed, thinking about the reason why you were stumbling over your words in your interview earlier.  “No, not nervous.  I’m a good interviewer.  Today was…a fluke.”

“Well, now that the interview is over, tell me: what could I do to make sure my future interviewees are comfortable, and don’t have anymore ‘flukes’?”  Dean seemed really interested in how to make his interviewing better, when it wasn’t anything he  _did_ that caused you problems, it was all about how mouth-wateringly handsome he was. He had no idea.

You took a sip of your drink before responding.  “I don’t think there’s anything you can do differently, at least nothing I would want you to change.”  You tried to stay vague and sidestep the question.

“No, seriously,” Dean wasn’t going to let this go.  “What was it that got you today?  I really want to know what was going on.”

You looked at Dean, trying to decide if you should tell him the truth or not.  One more gulp of your drink gave you the liquid courage to tell him the truth.  “You think I was nervous because you were interviewing me for this high end job or because you made me uncomfortable, but actually it was because you’re stupidly hot and I couldn’t concentrate.”

The words came flowing from your mouth very quickly and your eyes focused on the drink in front of you. All of a sudden, you regretted telling Dean the truth.  You reached for your purse, grabbing a $20 to put on the table and run.  “I apologize, that was inappropriate.  Thanks for, well, everything.  I’ll see you.”

You stood up and made it only two steps before Dean’s hand grasped your wrist, his calloused touch stopping you from going any further.  You looked down at his grip, then up to his face.

He was smiling slightly, one side of his lips quirked up just a tad.  His green eyes showed his mirth at your admission, but it was kind and not teasing.  “Y/N,” he started, pulling you slightly backwards so that you were facing him once more.  Both of his hands moved to hold one of yours, making your heart race at the gentle touch. “I thought it was just me…I couldn’t take my eyes off of you during that interview.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, and you slowly sunk back into your chair.  His smile widened as you did, obviously happy that you weren’t leaving him.  He didn’t let go of your hand, and you found yourself hoping he never would.


	2. Chapter 2

You loved your new job. It was exactly the change you needed in your life: big company, lots of things happening, no family members around to bother you.  Your salary was more than what you had been earning before, so you were able to find and afford a single bedroom apartment in the city, and were definitely  _not_  missing your old roommate.  You had a small team of people working under you, and they had welcomed you and your fresh ideas with open arms.

All in all, it had been the best month of your life.

Unfortunately, Dean Smith hadn’t had anything to do with it.

Of course, you often thought of Dean during your days at Sandover, but you rarely got to see him.  He had been right in his comment that since he wasn’t your supervisor, the two of you didn’t interact much.  You had seen him in a few of the bigger sales and marketing department meetings, but he was usually the one at the front going over the quarterly plans, and you didn’t ever get a chance to talk to him afterwards.

It made you sad, actually. That night that the two of you had gotten a drink had been really nice.  In your mind, you had actually classified the evening as a ‘date’, even though it wasn’t, really.  You had even exchanged the awkward ‘ _You’re hot, I’m attracted to you_ ’ thing, but nothing had come of it.  

You shook your head from your thoughts of Dean as you focused back on your computer screen and the work in front of you.  You were sitting in your small office, which you had made as comfortable as possible – adding a rug and a nice lampshade to the otherwise bland office furniture. You had hung an abstract musical painting on one wall, across from your corkboard that held all of your master sales and marketing plans – AKA all of the random thoughts you had about work and life in general.

You felt comfortable and happy in your space, which was another thing that helped you have such a good month.  You knew you were doing the best work you’d ever done, coming up with really good online sales plans and allocating improvement ideas to your small team. Your supervisor was impressed with the numbers coming out of your little working group, and had told you so earlier that day.

Two knocks on your open door had you looking up from your computer screen.  It didn’t take any time for your breath to leave your body, completely surprised to see Dean standing silhouetted in your doorway.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he said with a sideways grin, leaning against the doorframe and looking ridiculously handsome.

You stood up, hoping the smile on your face looked normal and not like a lunatic.  A month of not being within five feet of Dean had put you back where you began – completely taken aback by his attractiveness.

“Hey Mr. Smith,” you breathed, walking around your desk to offer him your hand.

Dean huffed a laugh at your formality, closing the gap between you and taking your outstretched hand between both of his.

“Please, Y/N.  Never call me Mr. Smith – I thought we went over that your first day here?”  You nodded and blushed, eyes moving downward and looking at your clasped hands.

Dean noticed your nervousness and squeezed your hand before letting go, turning to close the door behind him.  He led you to sit back down at your desk, and he propped himself to the side of your chair, very reminiscent of the position the two of you had been in during your interview.

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you were in  _your_  office, in  _your_ comfortable place, and this was Dean.  You could be normal.   _If only he wasn’t so beautiful_ , you thought to yourself.  

You looked up at Dean just as he started speaking.  “So I have been hearing all about this awesome new sales manager that started last month, and how she’s been leading her team to raise numbers and push boundaries,” Dean began, and you began to blush at his words yet again.  “Imagine my non-surprise when I heard it was you that was so wonderful.”

You smiled at Dean, “We’ve been working hard over here, I guess.  Just doin’ my job.”

Dean laughed and stood, walking around your desk to your corkboard.  “This,” he gestured with his hand, “is more than your job.  You go above and beyond, and people at this company have been impressed.  I’m impressed.”  Dean turned back toward you.  “And I’m proud, Y/N,” he said softer, eyes seeming to stare right into your soul.

You didn’t think you could blush harder, so you looked down at your hands.  “Thanks, Dean,” you whispered, a bit overwhelmed with the attention.

Dean moved back toward you, this time sitting in the extra chair you had.  He pulled it across the desk from you and leaned forward on his elbows. The two of you took a long moment to just look at one another, before he reached out a hand across the table.  You slowly moved to put one of your hands in his, letting him squeeze it softly before his thumb began caressing the back of your hand.  You sighed at the feel of his rough calluses, remembering the first time you shook his hand.

“Y/N,” Dean almost-whispered, causing you to look back up into his eyes.  “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you recently.”  Dean swallowed deeply, your eyes moving to watch his adam’s apple bob on his neck before he continued.  “I had really meant to see you – I’ve wanted to see you.  I just, I thought it might be better to let you settle in a bit before trying to add something  _else_  new to your plate…”

Dean trailed off and your mind started buzzing, wondering if he meant that he wanted to  _see_  you-see you, or just see you around.  Oh God, if he wanted to  _see_  you-see you, you might just die of happiness right there. You couldn’t think of anything better than  _seeing_  Dean.

You realized that Dean seemed to be waiting for a response, so you blubbered a bit.  “Oh, um, it’s totally – it’s alright, Dean.  I get it.”  You sat up a little straighter to get your mind working again.  “I have been awfully busy, and I moved, and the new job and everything…”

Dean started laughing. You looked at him curiously, and he waved his free hand dismissively.  “Y/N, I know you were a little off at the interview, but how’s that head of yours right now?” he teased, making you laugh as well.

You pulled your hand from his and covered your face, groaning “Your fault, Dean,” into your fingers as you leaned forward on your elbows.   You heard him chuckling at your comment and peeked at him through your fingers.  He looked so wonderful, sitting across from you with a smile on his face, mirth in his eyes.  

Deciding to get a grip on yourself, you moved your hands back to your desk and sat up a little straighter.  “So, were you just coming in here to get me flustered, or was there a point to this conversation?” you asked Dean, giving him a small smile.

Dean matched your attitude, leaning towards you a bit before he spoke again.  “Well I was coming by to congratulate our new employee on a stellar first month,” he began, “but I also wanted to see you.  And ask you to dinner.  Friday.  Can I pick you up at 7?”

You looked at him, shocked that Dean would be asking you out after everything.  You thought back to your ‘date’ getting drinks with Dean, and couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather do on Friday.  With a sharp nod of your head, you agreed.  “Friday.  Sounds perfect.”

Dean beamed at you, and you swooned on the inside.  He reached inside his jacket to pull out his cell phone, handing it to you.  “Can you put in your number, so I can text you later for your address?”

You nodded and did as he said, and felt your own phone buzz once you’d given his back, as he had texted you so you had his number too.

The two of you stood, you feeling a bit awkward once more, and Dean seeming to feel the same as he shuffled toward the door.  You stood next to him, wondering if he had something else he wanted to say.  “Dean?”

He scratched the back of his neck before saying quickly, “See you Friday, Y/N,” and leaning forward to brush his lips on your cheek in a sweet gesture.  Sparks ignited where his lips touched your face, and you think you gave him an answering goodbye, but you weren’t sure.

He was out of your office and down the hall before you had even moved, propping your door open once more and returning to your desk and your work – which you surely wouldn’t be able to concentrate on for the rest of the day.


End file.
